lordgloria (lordgloria) wrote,

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This has been a weird couple of days. My Head Cold From Hell is back, and I've been gooned on the 'Quil day-n-night. Sleep has been an adventure all its own, and working has been nigh impossible. Then I find out my eldest mini-weiner Bon-Bon has developed an unnatural taste for... cotton balls. ALL BAGS OF COTTON BALLS MUST BE MOVED TO ABOVE FLOOR LEVEL, IMMMEDIATELY!!!! The old coot is rooting them out, shredding them, and eating them.

Max the GI-normous Maine Coon cat has quite the set-up in our bedroom. It's called Max TV. He sits at the edge of the top of our wardrobe, head under the shade, and stares out the window at the tree rats that climb around outside in the branches. Tonight, Hubby runs by the living room and outside, saying Max had pushed the screen out. The big goof had dropped two stories and was sitting there with this "wha' happened?" look on his face.

A little later one of my young mini-weiners (Spike) is yelping in his run like a cougar is shaking him to death. I run out to save him. Apparently he's caught a nail in the chain link. Inside he goes for a nail trim and some lovin', while his girlfriend Dru yaps and screams indignantly because he's getting all the attention.

Our neighbors love us.

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